


all I ever wanted was the world

by Nakimochiku



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin is walking through downtown Toronto when he's accosted by a hot fashion designer, what follows is a beautiful mess of organza, punk music, biryani and fashion shows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all I ever wanted was the world

Erwin doesn’t have a destination as he’s wandering down Queen Street, pushing his sunglasses up his nose so the sun doesn’t blind him. He’s on the ugly side just before the overpass, the side of Queen Street that has family owned shawarma places, used bookstores and thrift stores in a permanent state of going out of business. He has a paper cup of Starbucks in one hand and a notebook tucked into the inner pocket of his suit jacket in case inspiration suddenly strikes him.

He nearly has his matcha green tea latte knocked out of his hand when someone grabs him by the elbow and nearly yanks him back on his ass. “Excuse me—” He starts.

“The hem of your jacket is too long.” The man cuts him off, tugging Erwin again. A cigarette slips from thin lips, to fingers, to the ground in one smooth motion and crushes it with a toe of his ragged shoe. He looks like someone shoved a lemon in his mouth, glaring at the cut of Erwin’s jacket like it offends him. “It offends me. Step into my place, I want to fix it.”

Well, Erwin could say no. That would probably be the better idea. But the guy has an impoverished artist look about him, starting with his bootleg converse to the rolled up button down showing tattooed forearms. He’s interesting. Completely unlike anyone he’s ever met before, at least since college, which feels like an age ago. That has him following him round the corner into a little shop the size of a shoebox. The window has _Hunter’s Apparel & Alterations_ scrawled neatly across it in a delicate arch. A couple dress forms line the walls; shelves nearly overflowing with papers hang above them. Erwin spies a couple photo books of previous Chanel collections.

“Quaint.” Erwin comments, and takes his spot in front of a trifold mirror, shoes lining up where an x is taped on the ground.

He snorts, and grabs a measuring tape off the table and holds a worn piece of tailor’s chalk in his mouth. “It’s a shit hole, no need to dress it up.” He says around it, and begins immediately to measure Erwin’s side, the length of his arms, so on, making marks as he goes.

“Hunter’s, hm?” Erwin asks conversationally. “You would be Hunter, then?”

“Nah. Named the shop after my stupid little intern. I guess he’s my muse or some shit like that.” He balances a pincushion on his knee and begins pinning away at the fabric efficiently.

“Why not your own name?”

“Levi’s was already taken.”

* * *

The entire process barely even takes an hour or so. Erwin sips on his green tea latte and dutifully ignores all of Petra’s calls, and wanders around Levi’s two feet of working space. Sure, Erwin’s heart cracks a little when Levi makes the first cut to his jacket. It’s a designer suit. It was made personally for him. It feels like betrayal to have it altered.

On the other side of the table where the desecrated remains of Erwin’s suit lay in a neat pile, a Styrofoam box of biryani, a few cheap picture frames and an open binder waits for someone’s hand. Erwin curiously flips through the first few pages of the binder, eyebrows raised at the impressive designs, and turns to Levi where he’s sewing to the sound of an old Green Day album. “What’s all this?” He can’t help but become engrossed in the designs, wants more than anything to see samples, examples, watch the finished products go fluttering down a runway.

Levi hums, glances up at Erwin and shrugs. “Eren wanted to hang a couple of his favourite designs on the walls. Something about my work getting the showcase it deserves?” He shrugs again, and starts away at the sewing machine, muttering song lyrics beneath his breath.

Erwin spends the rest of his time flipping through design after design. Eren has carefully marked the ones he intends to hang, and he obviously has a good eye because the designs are his favourite, too. He glances every so often at Levi working diligently at his suit, pausing only to change his CD in an old fashioned player, the Misfits this time. He’s wasted here. He’s wasted in this shop, wasted on the ugly side of Queen Street in a shit hole alteration shop when he could be on the nice side of Queen Street with all the other independent brands.

“Alright, should be good now, back to the mirror.” It’s almost comical watching Levi try to help him slip back into the jacket, standing on his tiptoes to reach. He smooths the creases, tugs the hems, and steps back to inspect his work with a satisfied nod. Erwin inspects himself as well, and finds that the shorter cut makes his legs look like they go on forever. He’d been so busy harping at the design flaws on the runway, he hadn’t noticed his own. “Much better right? Makes your ass look phenomenal.”

Erwin blinks at Levi and his self-satisfied expression. “I have a couple other jackets with this problem, do you mind if I bring them here, too?”

Levi shrugs. “Sure whatever. Not like I have anything better to do than grab fashion criminals in the street and try to fix them up.” He reaches into his jeans pockets for a crumpled cigarette box and shakes one out, takes it between his thin lips. Erwin watches him with growing hunger. The impoverished artist look is good on him. The lip ring, the eyebrow ring, the penciled eyebrows, all of them _work_ on him. But he’d like to see Levi polished, taken from his squalor to realize his true potential, like a goldfish given a bigger tank.

“How much do I owe you for the jacket?”

Levi shakes his hand at him. “On the house. I grabbed you.” He gives him a cunning look. “But if you bring more stuff, I won’t hand out any more freebies.”

Erwin laughs at the shrewd comment. “I’ll definitely be back.”

He pats his notebook in his jacket pocket, tosses out his Starbucks cup at a garbage can on the street corner, and pushes his sunglasses atop his head to enjoy enflamed afternoon sunlight as he walks back up the ugly side of Queen Street. He does, in fact, notice quite a few more stares as he passes, directed distinctly downwards, and smirks a little. Well, he _was_ struck by inspiration, just not the traditional sort.

* * *

“Twenty five missed calls.” Petra repeats shrilly. Normally, she’s very good at staying calm, but she’s red in the face now, just short of chastising him like a child. “If this had been any other day, with any other whim, I might not be so… steamed.” She takes a deep breath through her nose, trying to calm herself. “But to skip this particular meeting—”

“Mike covered for me?”

“Well… yes.” Petra admits, deflating.

“They ate up every word that came out of Hanji’s mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t really see the problem. Those two can handle everything.” Petra sighs, defeated, and hugs her day planner to her chest. “In the mean time, Miss Ral, I do have something I’d like you to look into. I was scouting talent—“

“That’s not really your job, is it, sir?”

“Petra, who runs this company?”

She gives him a look. “You do, sir.”

“And whose name is it on the side of this building?”

“Yours, sir.” Petra sighs. Erwin grins like a fox.

“Then that means I get to do whatever I want.” He slips Petra the business card he’d snagged from Levi’s table. Ackerman and Jaeger are printed neatly beneath the shop’s name, along with a phone number and a website. When Erwin thinks about it, isn’t Jaeger German for hunter? “I want to know about the owner’s fashion career. Where he went to school, if he’s won any competitions. When he opened his shop.”

“A designer with potential?” Petra ventures, tucking the card into her day planner.

Erwin shakes his head. “He has more than potential,” He says, and strokes the neat stitches at the hem of his jacket. “He has talent.”

* * *

Erwin brings an armload of jackets that need hemming or cinching or a new button. Eren the intern sits at his designated corner of the worktable and matches buttons to jackets from a massive box, while Levi measures, pins and marks each jacket. It’s fascinating to watch pins go from the cushion on his knee, to his mouth, to the jacket, one at a time in a flash of silver. In the mirror, Erwin can see Eren hung the designs in a tasteful array. For all that he looks like just as much of a punk as Levi, he has a good understanding of spatial arrangements.

Erwin’s fairly certain he brought a year’s worth of clothes just so that he could be in Levi’s presence, enjoy his work, flip through the binders with his designs again. They’re flawless, and he wants Levi’s mind for his own.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any samples, would you?” Erwin asks suddenly, startling Levi so badly he nearly pricks himself. “Of some of your designs?”

Levi sucks at his abused thumb and shrugs, and jerks his head back at Eren who is sewing on buttons, tongue peeking out between his teeth. “I don’t really care about that stuff anymore. When it comes to all my designs and shit, you gotta ask that little fuck.” He jerks his thumb in Eren’s direction before sticking in one last pin and helps Erwin out of the jacket, putting it in a pile with the others. “Oi, asshat, do you remember where you put that gown from that one competition?”

Eren perks and tosses down his sewing. “As if I could forget.” He turns eagerly to Erwin, and gives him a hopeful look. “You wanna see?” He hops off his stool and into the backroom, and they can both hear him crashing around in there,  while Levi helps him into another jacket and sets to pinning again.

“He’s excitable.”

Levi kisses his teeth. “He’s like my number one fan. He’s always trying to sell my designs to big companies and shit.”

“But?”

“But I’d prefer if he worked on his own shit. He’s not bad you know. A little too influenced by me. But when he comes into his own he could be great.”

“Have you known each other long then?”

“I’ve literally known that kid all his life. He vowed to go to Ryerson like I did, vowed to work wherever I did.” Levi shrugs, pins an errant bit of fabric, and folds the fabric over to inspect the edges. “I promised his mom I’d look after him.”

“Found it!” Eren chirps with a huff as he wiggles a dress form out of the back room, revealing a magnificent navy blue gown. Eren beams at it like it’s his own pride and joy. Erwin can’t see it properly with his back turned to it and Levi still pinning him, but he stares in the mirror at it until Levi lets him go.

This confirms it. He has to have Levi for his own.

* * *

Hanji wolf whistles as he passes, and looks dangerously close to slapping his ass. “Looking sharp there, sir.” She winks. “Ass on fleek.”

“You know it is.” Erwin replies and winks back at her. Petra rolls her eyes, opening the door to Erwin’s office and following him inside.

“I gathered the information you wanted, sir.” She says, and pulls a thin sheaf of paper, with the business card paper clipped to it. He flips through it. “He graduated from Ryerson’s fashion design program, won two university level scholarship competitions while he was in school, and since opening his shop, he hasn’t been involved with the fashion world.” Petra looks at him expectantly. “Will that be all, sir?”

He waves his hand at her, and Petra slips out just as Hanji slips in. “Lookit you,” She crows, and props herself on Erwin’s desk and sprawls like she owns it. “Looking all fuckable and cunning. Who’re you seducing? Not the little blonde down in sales?”

“Not seducing anyone.” Erwin replies patiently, and pulls out a stress ball to toss up and down languidly. He gives Hanji a look when she snatches it before it can make it back to his hands.

“Last time you looked this hot, I caught you and Mike in a bathroom stall, fucking each other’s brains out.” She quips.

“Mike still blushes about that.”

“Please, Mike has no shame.” She retorts, tossing the ball and catching it. “The point is: you’re after someone’s ass.” She laughs wildly and lobs the ball at his chest, slipping off the desk to strut back towards the door like the top model she is. “God help them when you get it.”

* * *

Erwin heads back to Hunter’s on Monday. Levi has stepped out, Eren is alternating between sewing a button to the front of a child’s dress he’s repairing, and glaring at a half finished doodle. “Hey, Mr. Smith.” He greets glumly, and rises to collect all of Erwin’s jackets, folding them over his arm.

“Working on something?” Erwin asks conversationally as Eren checks tags and rings them into an old fashioned cash register. He rounds the table to inspect the doodle. “May I?” Eren shrugs and grunts, so strikingly similar to Levi in that moment that Erwin blinks. He flips through the book. Levi was right. There’s potential there, a wild edge not tempered by Levi’s influence that could become something great. He flips through everything the book has to offer and hums. He’ll come back for Eren in another ten years or so, when he’s bloomed. Right now, Levi is his main objective.

“So when are you gonna offer Levi a spot in your company?” Eren asks bluntly, having finished ringing up the total and crossing his arms over his chest. Erwin blinks again.

“You knew who I was all along?”

Eren gives him a strange, twisted expression, somewhere between disbelief, exasperation and irritation. “Levi talks a lot of smack, but I’m not that dumb. Any artist worth his salt knows who you are.”

“And Levi doesn’t…?”

“Because Levi lives his life giving no fewer than zero fucks. Especially for hotshot multibillion dollar fashion companies like you.” Eren shrugs and folds the jackets into a massive paper bag, decorated with the shop’s logo. “He’s a hipster like that.” Erwin laughs at that and pays the total. “So?”

“Tell you what. I’ll wait for Levi here, and you can help sell him on the idea of working for me. If that’s alright with you.”

“Are you kidding?” Eren snorts. “I’ve been trying to get him out of this shit hole for years. Fucking take him.”

“You would have a spot, too, some day.” Erwin says, and sets his bag down on the floor next to a chair. “After you’ve—“

“Come into my own, I fucking know, trust me.” Eren waves his hand, picks up his pencil and begins sketching again.

* * *

Levi goes out for a McDonald’s-breakfast-and-cigarette run. He comes in smoking like a chimney, blinks in vague surprise at Erwin, then shoots a scathing look at Eren who puts up his left hand in a sign of surrender while drawing, and Erwin realizes he’s on his own with this.

“You got your stuff, what’d you stick around for?” He asks, and sets the take out bag down at Eren’s elbow, who reaches in and grabs a McMuffin without looking up from his sketch. “I hope it wasn’t for breakfast. I’m not sharing my McGriddle.”

Erwin chuckles, and draws himself up. “I’m the president of Sina –“

“No shit?” Levi raises a brow and takes another drag of his cigarette. “Do all fashion CEO’s allow themselves out in public in suits that hide asses that glorious?”

Erwin blinks. “I wanted to offer you a job as a designer –“

“Not interested—“

“Levi.” Eren snaps. He grabs him by the elbow and drags him over to the sewing machine, glaring into his face. “Don’t you fucking dare turn down this opportunity.”

“Eren—“

“Do I look like I give a shit what you want? I worked way too hard create this kind of shit for you. And now it’s just landed in your lap without even trying.” He puts his hand on Levi’s shoulder, and plucks his cigarette from his mouth and repeats, “don’t you dare turn down this opportunity.”

Levi looks at the floor, at the designs on the wall, at the dress form with his award-winning piece, at Erwin, and groans. He glares at Eren. “You always grow a spine on me at the worst fucking times.”

Erwin tells Levi he wants him to debut for the fall season. Eren overhears this, looks between the two, and says, “So I’ll be buying your cigs and your tea and your biryani, and going to the Silver Snail every Thursday for you.”

Levi looks as though if Eren hadn’t promised this, they would have had a deal breaker. “Two sugars no milk?” he asks with an expression of world-weariness. He bustles around the shop, pulling out scrapbooks from which bits of fabric and magazine clippings spill, old sketch books and photo books.

Eren grins and gives him a thumbs up. “And a timmies steeped tea, black, after 4 am.”

Levi pulls a face, jerks a chin in Eren’s direction when he turns back to Erwin. “There you have it. Keeping my intern and all his services are my terms. I’m not gonna work in some sparkling studio you have back at your fortress, so you can forget all about that.”

“You’d really prefer to work here?” Erwin glances around the small shop. Quaint was kind, before. While it’s meticulously neat, if they get one more person inside the shop, there wouldn’t be enough oxygen between the four of them. Levi looks around too and shrugs.

“It’s a shit hole, but it’s my shit hole.” He pulls up a seat at the worktable. Eren digs in his backpack and sends a fresh sketchbook skidding across at him. “Put on tea?” and Eren scampers to obey while Levi lights a cigarette.

Getting the distinct feelings he’s been dismissed, Erwin says “Alright, then.” He leaves Levi his number, promises to stop by every so often, waves good-bye to Eren, and sets on his way. Sure, he feels victorious, having finally attained the thing he’s been longing for after the past few days. But it’s a hollow victory. This isn’t quite what he was hoping for.

* * *

“Seriously though, your ass looks great, why have I never noticed before?” Hanji has a three o’clock shoot that she’s intentionally going to show up late to. She says she needs to pull the diva card some times. Erwin gives her a half-hearted smirk. It’s been a week and a half; Levi hasn’t called, not once, not even to update him on his progress. “Uh oh. Don’t you just look like a thundercloud. What happened, were your advances spurned?”

“To the contrary, they were accepted.” Erwin pulls out his stress ball, lobs it at Hanji who catches and lobs it back.

“Then why do you look like someone spat in your skinny soy latte?”

“I think I was expecting more of him than he realized.” He answers. Hanji purrs, catches the stress ball again to juggle it. She has the bemused expression of someone who knows something he does not. On Hanji, he hates that expression, despises it even. Except, of course, when she’s directing it at a camera. Which she should be doing. Right now.

“Well why don’t you just attune him to your expectations?”  She slips off his desk, toes her heels back on,  and tugs her jeans up.  “Toodles.” She chirps with a wave over her shoulder, and slips out of his office, leaving Erwin with his fingers pressed to his mouth and an idea forming in his mind.

* * *

Erwin meets Eren on the way to the shop, weighed down by a box of fabric bolts and a tray of Tim Horton’s drinks, all extra large. He grabs the drinks before they can topple, and Eren flashes him a relieved look before saying, “You don’t wanna go in there.”

“And why not?” Eren gives him a look like he’s an idiot, readjusting his grip on his box of fabric.

“Because a sleep deprived Levi isn’t a happy Levi.” He jostles the bolts in his arms into a more comfortable position again, before Erwin just grabs that from him too. “Granted, Levi is never a happy Levi, but sleep deprived Levi is particularly intolerable.” He looks Erwin up and down and says, “He might put up with you if you come bearing caffeine though.”

Just then, Levi opens the door to the shop hard enough to set the bell jangling violently. “The hell are you dawdling out here for?” he snaps. He looks haggard, his bangs are clipped back by bobby pins and the bags under his eyes are particularly pronounced. “I’m out of cigs—“ Eren produces a pack and shoves them under his nose. Levi blinks, nods his ungracious thanks, and immediately lights one, relaxing back onto the shop’s rough brick façade. He looks remarkably more settled after a few good puffs, and eyes Eren again. “Don’t you have finals?”

“Yeah but—“

“Go study. No buts.” He jerks his head at Erwin. “This fucking behemoth can handle things for a couple days.” Eren makes a face when Levi ruffles his hair, waves at them both, and takes off across the street without even looking for oncoming traffic. “C’mon in.” Levi jerks his head back at the shop. Stubbing out his cigarette against the wall and letting it drop unconcerned.

“I can get you an assistant, you know.” Erwin says, dumping the box and drink tray on the worktable. He half expects the little shop to be a disaster area, but there’s only one long bolt of blue taffeta taking up half the table, tailor's chalk, and a piece of paper propped up on an iPod dock blaring the latest pop tunes. “Someone good at their job, from the company.”

“Nah. I don’t work well with anyone but Eren.” Levi picks up his chalk and starts drawing out lines as easy as breathing. Erwin leans against the table to watch him draw. He loves this; he loves an artist at work, completely absorbed in their art, blind to all else. Levi in his zone is particularly beautiful. He looks up sharply at Erwin as though he voiced his thoughts out loud. “Get that off my table.” He hisses, gesturing at the box.

“Is there anywhere in particular you want me to put it?”

“The back room somewhere. I wouldn’t know; I don’t go in there.” Erwin blinks, but obligingly picks up the box of fabric bolts to carry to the backroom. He blinks in surprise when he gets the door open.

It’s not that the back room is dirty, so much as it’s stuffed so full of boxes, racks of clothes and spools of thread in every colour of the rainbow that it’s hard to find room for anything else. The back room has all Eren’s hallmarks, because Erwin simply can’t see Levi letting the place remain in such a state. He sets the box down with all the other boxes of fabric and closes the door behind him.

“I’ll be going then.” He says. Levi tips his head back at the ceiling, rubbing at his neck so that Erwin’s eyes are drawn to the delicate ridges of his collarbone and smooth lines of his Adam's apple. Levi doesn’t look at him, just grunts. “Right.” He mutters, and hurries away.

* * *

“Moblit’s finished his designs—where are you going?” Hanji places her skinny arm across the doorway, barely barring his chest.

“Levi’s place.” Hanji tips her head up to regard him, humming knowingly. “His assistant is working on his finals in college, and he needs extra hands around the place.”

“The mighty Erwin Smith, demoted to extra hands?” Hanji gasps, her mouth a picture perfect shape of delight. “Erwin, I haven’t seen you program the number of a new acquaintance into your phone with your own two hands since Petra started here. You don’t do ‘extra hands’.” She cocks her hip out, gleeful smile tugging her mouth. “No, my guess is you’re just going cause you like the way Levi’s ass looks bent over his work table, huh?” she waggles her eyebrows.

Erwin’s known her too long to be bothered about modesty. “To be perfectly honest, his ass is nothing special. But let me tell you about his shoulders and forearms.” He puts on a leer for her benefit. It works: Hanji laughs uproariously, moving her arm enough to let him through.

“Well, here are Moblit’s designs, look them over while admiring Levi’s forearms.” Erwin shakes his head at her and laughs.

* * *

Erwin shows up with several cups of steeped tea and a pack of Levi’s cigarettes, Moblit’s designs tucked under his arm. Eren isn’t in, but there’s a steaming box of biryani and a couple of samosas, and a plate of quiche with a note that says _for your white man taste buds_ that Erwin gratefully munches on, still scarred from the last time he choked down the spicy rice, much to Levi and Eren’s amusement. Levi has his punk rock music turned all the way up, some nameless band Erwin’s never heard of, so that the sound of the sewing machine pounding away can barely be heard. There are three half finished dresses draped over forms, one moss green, the other blood red and the last the blue one Erwin last saw Levi working on. There’s a design pinned to each form, and Erwin’s heart practically flutters at the site.

He makes a conscious decision not to look at Moblit’s designs. It’s not that Moblit’s a bad designer, or even a boring one. It’s just that anything he does would pale in comparison to the three half finished beauties.

Levi doesn’t even notice him come in, picking out pins from his seams as he goes, and shoving them in his mouth or pincushion, which ever occurs to him first. “How’s it looking?” Erwin says close to his ear, and Levi leaps out of his skin, machine sputtering to a stop, stitches gone jagged.

“You want me dead?” He snaps, rounding on him just enough to glare. “I nearly swallowed my pins.” He lifts the pedal of the machine and reaches for something on an adjacent desk, but his hand meets nothing. “Where’s my pencil case. I need my stitch ripper.” He looks around, and finding his pencil case nowhere, waves his hand at Erwin. “Go get it. Green and purple Evangelion pencil case. Eren probably put it in the backroom, that little twat.”

“Why should I get it?” Erwin returns. Levi gives him a dry look, pencilled eyebrow raised haughtily.

“Cause you’re the one who fucked my seam.” He flaps his hand again, and Erwin sighs fondly. The back room is as messy as ever, if not more so. Erwin searches high and low for this pencil case. To be perfectly honest, he has no idea what an Evangelion even is.

“Where did you even get an Evangelion pencil case?” Erwin shouts over the music.

“The anime shop on Spadina and College.” Levi answers. Erwin spots the thing at last atop a pile of plastic storage boxes filled to bursting with odds and ends. For a brief minute Erwin wonders how Eren even managed to scamper so high up. He finds a tower of boxes to lean against while he reaches for the pencil case. It teeters dangerously. “Maybe in this lifetime!” Levi snaps, and Erwin jerks the pencil case from its perch.

The pencil case comes down, as does everything else with it.

There is silence from the front room for a good long moment. “You okay?” Levi calls.

“No.” Erwin groans from beneath the boxes.

More silence follows, as if Levi was content to leave him there, until: “do you need help?”

“It’d be appreciated.” Levi sighs heavily. Erwin manages to catch a peek of him when he peers cautiously into the back room. He looks like his hair would stand on end and turn white.

“Filthy.” He spits, and then starts shoving boxes off Erwin. His hands are surprisingly strong on Erwin’s arm when he helps him up, and linger on his bicep while Erwin dusts himself off and holds the pencil case out to him.

“Got your stitch ripper.” He says, and feels far too old to be doing anything so physical.

Levi looks with disgust around the back room, in greater disarray than it’s ever been before. “Fuck the stitch ripper, this room is getting cleaned top to bottom.”

* * *

Eren walks into the back room and walks back out, gaping in horror. “What the hell did you do?” he demands, tossing a sketchbook on the worktable.

“Organized it.” Levi sniffs. Erwin decidedly says nothing. His arms still ache from hauling boxes. “It was filthy.”

“Organized, my ass. How do you expect me to find anything in there now? I had a system!” Eren wails. “You promised not to touch it so long as you couldn’t see the mess. The hell made you decide to go poking around in there now?”

“It wasn’t his fault. Boxes fell on me.” Erwin quickly interjects, stifling the argument brewing in the shoebox of a room. Eren looks like he’s at the end of his rope, almost as haggard as Levi, who hasn’t stopped sewing for even a moment, while Erwin cut out pieces of marked fabric or fetched materials back and forth.  “How’re your finals going?”

At this, Eren seems to deflate, sinking to the footstool before the trifold mirror. “I did it. I’m done. I made it.”

Levi abruptly shuts off his sewing machine. “You deserve a beer.” He grabs his wallet off his desk and shuts off his cd player. “You deserve several beers. My treat.” He gestures at Erwin vaguely. “You coming or you wanna stay here cutting organza all night?”

“What about work?” Erwin grabs his blazer and follows the pair out into the night.

Levi kisses his teeth. “I need to get the fuck outta this shop before I dig my own eyes out with my stitch ripper. And besides.” He ruffles Eren’s hair affectionately. “I wanna celebrate this idiot’s success.”

“We dunno if it’s success yet.” Eren objects.

“Shh, shut up. Success.”

* * *

The beer is good; the way cheap domestic beer on tap is good. Eren’s beer becomes three, then six. Levi’s had four, and Erwin is working on his fifth.

“And do you know what that horse face said to me?” Eren slurs, enraged and comical. Erwin shakes his head. “He told me fashion wasn’t an art. Fashion wasn’t an art! He thinks he’s hot shit just cause he’s a fine arts major.” he grumps and roughly swallows more beer. “I’ll show him art. Shove art right up his ass.”

“That bastard.” Levi intones, and polishes off his beer. He’s leaning against the bar in the middle of Erwin and Eren’s stools; brushing so close he’s almost standing between Erwin’s legs. He teeters, and Erwin almost falls himself trying to catch him. Levi’s strong fingers close on his thighs, leave charcoal streaks in their wake.

“Sorry.” Erwin murmurs, close to Levi’s ear. He feels Levi’s shiver through his hands engulfing his small shoulders, and Levi’s hand slides higher experimentally, then higher again when he doesn’t get an adverse reaction.

“Can you two stop canoodling in front of me?” Eren grumbles. “Jesus, my innocent eyes.”

That snaps Levi away, and he levels a crooked smile Eren’s way, gesturing for another beer. “There hasn’t been anything innocent about you since you were sixteen.” Erwin misses Levi’s touch, but Levi doesn’t shake his hands from his shoulders, or move from between his legs.

* * *

“Where have you been?” Petra demands. Then she holds up a hand sharply. “No, never mind, I know exactly where you’ve been. But these papers won’t sign themselves.” Petra is a good deal shorter than him, but she stares him down with a fire in her eyes that makes him yield. “What I want to know is how you think Mr. Levi will even be able to make his debut when you haven’t planned any of it a wit.”

“Just let—“

“Erwin Smith, if you say let someone else take care of it—“ she catches herself before she can finish the threat, or god forbid, make good on it. She doesn’t say anything more, probably thinking she’s already overstepped her boundaries. He makes a note to buy her an expensive bottle of wine as a thank you and apology.

Levi doesn’t call the whole two and a half weeks he’s away. He arranges a venue based on what he’s seen so far, auditions models, of which Hanji is going to be a star. He fixes dates and has meetings with planning, sales, and all the other sections of the company, the main cog in a well-oiled machine.

But that doesn’t stop him from glancing at his cell phone and wishing Levi would call, or even text, just once. Reasonably, he hasn’t the time, designing and sewing an entire collection with just one assistant, not even graduated yet, to help him. But Erwin can’t forget the night in the bar celebrating the end of Eren’s finals, can’t forget the heat of Levi between his thighs.

* * *

“Hello?” Erwin glances over at the clock, phone held sleepily. It is 4:32 in the morning, and he fell asleep in a puddle of sales briefs. He half expects it to be Petra, calling to scold him to have the briefs done in the morning.

“It’s done.” Says a deep voice on the other end. Erwin blinks in confusion, taking his phone away from his ear to glance at the name on the screen.

“Levi?” he asks incredulously.

“It’s done. Ten dresses, three over coats, some weird looking things the little ass hat calls functional art or some shit. Done. This goddamn collection is done.” He sounds as though he doesn’t believe it. Erwin almost doesn’t believe it himself. “I can no longer remember the feel of grass or the taste of strawberries, but it’s done.” Erwin laughs quietly at the lord of the rings reference.

“That’s good to hear, but why are you –“

“Do you wanna come over?” Levi interrupts brusquely. “Celebrate the collection being done or… something?”

Erwin smiles. “I’ll even bring strawberries.”

* * *

Eren is asleep beneath the worktable on a mostly finished bolt of red fabric.  There are several dress forms sitting out in the front room, but they are naked, and Levi is folding the pieces neatly, packing them away. Erwin brings a half dozen strawberry filled donuts with a humorous, “best strawberries I could find at five in the morning.”

Levi bites into it gratefully. He looks dead inside, and absolutely exhausted to beat. They eat their donuts in silence for a long while, before Levi looks up at him through his eyelashes. “You haven’t been around.”

“Work kept me away.” Erwin replies lightly. He doesn’t add that he’d have liked to have been in Hunter’s every day if he could have.

“Eren missed you.” Levi says, looking fondly under the table at the young man’s sleeping face.

“But not you?”

Levi snorts. “I haven’t had half a brain to miss you with since you goaded me into making this damn collection. I barely remembered to eat the whole time.” He shoves the last of his donut into his mouth, setting aside the remaining one for Eren. “Can’t believe I agreed.” He leans heavily against the wood. “Can’t believe this is happening.”

“There’s still a long way to go.” Erwin says, just to have something to say.

“Yeah.” Levi agrees blandly. “But maybe after that…” He murmurs.

“After that?” But Levi doesn’t answer, and Erwin doesn’t think he was really supposed to hear. He wants to lean over the worktable, lick the powder from the corner of Levi’s mouth, lick between his lips and chase the taste of strawberry jelly. Levi looks up at him, and for a terrifying moment, his grey eyes flash as though he can read Erwin’s every thought. Then that moment is gone, and they are just two men and a sleeping boy at 5:30 in the morning, listening to the opening coos of rousing city pigeons.

* * *

“Whoa.” Eren gasps, twirling to take in a full view of the sparkling studio, and Erwin must admit, were this his first time taking in the sky high ceilings, walls of windows and row after row of dress forms on one hand and willowy models posing in the freshly finished dresses on the other, perhaps he’d be just as stunned, so he chuckles indulgently.

“Christ, Eren close your damn mouth, I didn’t raise you in a barn.” Levi says, looking around the studio himself blandly, unimpressed.

“You didn’t raise me at all.” He retorts.

“Then by all means, keep acting like an idiot.” Levi stalks over to Hanji, gestures with a twirling finger for her to spin around, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches his perfected piece rustle heavily around her. He then turns to Erwin. “You have anymore models who look like her?” Erwin frowns. “The other ones look too… standard. I like the way this looks on her.”

“Well, you fell right into the diva designer trope,” Eren comments drily. “Next you’ll be demanding organic apples and bowls of green skittles.” He looks over the models too, eyes fixing on Hanji, who shoots him a little wink. “I mean, I agree with you, but—“

“Of course you agree with me. I’m always right.” Levi rolls up the sleeves of his button down, in a manner that says he means business. “Well?” He asks, rounding on Erwin who finds himself suddenly dumb struck. “Do you have any more models like her or not?”

“Fortunately or unfortunately, Hanji is one of a kind.” Levi puffs out an exasperated sigh and flaps his hand at Eren who scurries over with his pincushion. Hanji sticks her tongue out at Erwin above Levi’s head, then mouths _I like him!_ with enthusiastic gestures.

 _Yes_ , Erwin thinks, watching Levi and Eren as they flit between the models, pinning stray wisps of fabric so they conform to the stick thin models’ bodies. He likes Levi plenty, too. And he’s not really sure if he thinks that’s a problem or not. “Shall we go see the venue, since you’re both here already?” If he is making excuses to spend more time with Levi, that is for Erwin alone to know, despite Hanji’s teasing.

Eren plucks his phone from his back pocket. He chews his lips as he deliberates, before shaking his head. “Can’t, I have—I’m late already. I’ll just…” Eren flushes, waves at Hanji, tells Levi to send him pictures of the venue, and bustles out.

“What was that about?” Erwin blinks after him.

Levi shrugs. “Got a date with one of the unwashed miscreants at his school. He’s been babbling about it for days.” Shoving his pincushion into his bag, Levi jerks his head at the exit and raises an expectant eyebrow. “We going or what?”

* * *

Bloor Street is busy, people in an atrocious combination of crocs and khaki shorts, or bicycles and bucket hats milling around in either direction. Horseback police officers trot up the streets, much to the amusement and fascination of children and tourists. The angular glass part of the ROM juts out into the street casting shadows and reflecting light in little flares.

“I hate that part of the ROM.” Levi comments dully, chin propped up against his fist.

“Why? It’s pretty.”

Levi sneers. “It’s an architectural mess designed by a thirteen year-old with only half an understanding of functionality.”  

“Pretty things aren’t supposed to be functional, that’s why it’s called art.” Erwin laughs. “You’re going to hate the Telus Centre then, but it suits your line.”

“I don’t mind the Telus Centre. The ROM is freaking awful. It’s not art, it’s just ugly.”

“If you’re sure.” Erwin says, sliding smoothly into a parking lot in some back alley behind the football field. “There’s still the Roy Thomson Hall, or the AGO.” Levi steps out of the car and smoothly tosses his empty coffee cup into a dumpster.

“Too stuffy, too pretentious. The Telus Centre has the right feel.” Levi yawns widely, and beckons Erwin to follow.

“I was torn between Koerner Hall and Conservatory Theatre, so I wanted to let you pick.” They walk through the long espresso bar through the side hall, sun shining down on them through the glass roof.

“Woulda been nice if the venue could be something like this, with the brick on one side and modern on the other.” Levi comments wistfully. Erwin hums in agreement, watching a bird flit by through the glass. They turn the corner and head into the elevator together. In such a closed space Erwin can smell Levi’s shampoo, the thick smell of coffee and cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes beneath the light scent of his cologne. He leans closer, utterly entranced, close enough that their sides brush, and Levi looks at him, steel grey eyes calculating. He fists Erwin’s shirt and drags him down to his level, so close his eyes take up Erwin’s whole world. “Later.” He says roughly, voice low and sultry, their lips almost touching.

The elevator door dings and Levi promptly lets go, stepping out into the hall with a swagger fit for the runway. Erwin doesn’t even know what Levi was referring to, but he wants him to keep his promise.

He’s distracted by Levi’s every movement the entire time he’s explaining what the show would look like in the two, vary different halls, watching the play of ink on his forearms, the way he bites at his lip ring, the cool arch of his pencilled eyebrows when he catches Erwin staring too long.

“Right, so in Koerner hall there would be more movement.” Erwin’s not used to being flustered. He thinks the last time he blushed this much, he’d still be in high school. “The models would come down both aisles, pause on stage, then criss-cross and walk down the opposite aisles, maximizing the space we have in this venue.”

“I think I like the intimacy of Conservatory Theatre more.” Levi remarks. His sharp eyes sweep the hall then land on Erwin again, piercing, reading his every thought. It’s unnerving. “I like the closer quarters.” The way he says it, so low and coy, Erwin wants to bend him over one of the folding seats, to hell with later. He does none of that though, and Levi’s mouth twitches at the corner in a smug smirk, like he knows precisely what he’s thinking.

* * *

“You look nervous.” Erwin comments, sliding his hand over Eren’s trembling shoulder. His suit jacket fits nicely, makes him look slender and mature. He’s certain Levi touched the suit up for him; no university student he’s ever known has owned a well fitting suit.

Eren shakes himself out of his nervous stupor. “Yeah, I just.” He pauses, grins up at Erwin. “Holy fucking shit, you know?” Erwin grips his shoulder comfortingly. “Three months ago, Levi was content to eat McGriddles and smoke until he keeled over. And I mean, he’s still gonna do that, but now he has a fashion line.” He looks around the venue, at the well to do names of the high fashion industry, eyes sparkling with tears. “He has a fashion line.” Eren repeats to disbelief.

“Grab your seat, Eren, the show is starting soon.” Erwin squeezes his shoulder one more time and starts to move away when Eren grabs him by the hem of his jacket.

“I know Levi will never say so in as many words, but…thank you, okay? Thank you.” He smiles at Eren tearful earnestness, and nods.

“I’m going to go check back stage.”

Backstage is a mess: a cloud of fabric and hair spray and perfume. “Where’s my shoe?” a model calls. Petra zips by with a pair, giving him only a passing, frazzled smile. Erwin reminds himself to buy her another bottle of expensive wine. He wanders deeper into the dressing room, dodging errant elbows and swathes of fabric and even a long whip of a braid.

“What the fuck is that rat's nest on her head?” Levi demands of the hairdresser. “This isn’t some goddamn Alexander McQueen gala, give the girl a ponytail or something, holy hell—”

“Levi.” Erwin says, and pulls Levi gently away from the hairdresser on the verge of tears. He finds some darkened corner behind a whole rack of extra dresses with bundles of tulle so voluminous they are completely hidden. The chaos carries on without them, and music outside grows louder to compensate. It’s some strange remix of classical music by a DJ that goes to Eren’s school, but it suits the theme of the collection. “Better now?” He asks when Levi’s had a moment to breathe.

“Better.” Levi agrees brusquely. He shakes Erwin’s hands off him and draws himself up, tipping his chin back to look at Erwin fully. His hands hover for a moment before they drop, and Erwin’s skin tingles despite the layers of fabric between them. He wonders where Levi was going to put them. He looks good, smart and sharp, in black slacks and a black shirt and shiny black shoes, and Erwin’s finally, finally seeing his impoverished artist dressed to the nines and looking oh-so lovely. “Eren cried on you yet?” Levi asks.

“Oh, yes.” Erwin answers cheerfully. Levi kisses his teeth fondly. He feels awkward and cumbersome now, standing so close to Levi but not touching him, utterly aware of the sweep of his black and gold-lined eyes, lashes lightly coated in mascara, the lingering scent of cologne and smoke, but not intimately familiar in the way he wants to be. He swallows that feeling down and smiles. “Nice touch on his suit by the way. He looks great.”

“What? I didn’t touch his suit; he wouldn’t let me. Kid fixed it up himself.” Erwin blinks in vague surprise. Levi shrugs. “Told you he was talented.”

They are both silent a beat, watching each other expectantly. Levi’s hands come up to rest on his waist, fingers curling in the fabric of his suit, pulling him so Erwin crowds him against a counter piled high with more dresses, breathing each other’s air. He hops onto it, spreading his legs to make space for Erwin between the. They meet each other halfway for a kiss, Erwin’s mouth slack with surprise. “Still don’t get it?” Levi murmurs, hands sliding from his waist to grip his ass, leg entwining with his.

“Is it later yet?” Erwin asks, leaning down to breathe Levi’s air, just shy of trying for another kiss and waiting for Levi’s signal.

“Fuck later.” Levi growls. Their mouths clash together, and they can’t tug each other close enough, hands running over expensive fabric. Levi pushes off his suit jacket and it crumples to the floor. He tugs Levi’s lip ring with his teeth and savours Levi’s soft sounds. Distantly Erwin can hear the show starting, but he doesn’t really care when Levi’s tongue slides against his, and a groan rips from his chest, his fingers tangle in Levi’s hair, mussing the carefully gelled strands. They pull away for just a second, and Erwin takes Levi in, lips damp as he slides his tongue across them, cheeks flushed and eyes alight.

Levi’s ass fits perfectly in his palms, and he rolls his hips forward, urging Erwin to touch him more as he holds his face to kiss him hungrily, fingers sliding from his jaw to his neck, sliding through his hair and gripping as Erwin’s hands finally feel the flex of his shoulders beneath his rumpled shirt.

“Shit.” Levi hisses, hips rutting against Erwin’s thigh. He can feel the hard length of his cock through his slacks, and Levi moans softly against his mouth, nails digging into the meat of his ass hard. He hooks Levi’s legs around his hips, hands smoothing up and down Levi’s thighs, pulling him closer so their clothed cocks are flush, hot even through the fabric. “You can do better than that.” Levi hisses, leaning back onto his elbows to buck his hips, tipping his head back as Erwin meets him move for move, hips snapping together, rubbing frantically, breaths coming quick and harsh.

Erwin leans down to rest his forehead against Levi’s collarbone, sucking kisses where his skin peeks from his shirt. Levi is sparking electricity beneath him, heels digging into his back, urging him closer, harder, faster, moaning curses and promises beneath his breath.

“Can’t wait to get you out of here.” Levi’s murmuring, nails scratching the back of his neck, arching against Erwin’s chest. Erwin moans and ruts and listens. “Gonna ride you ‘til I can’t walk straight, and then keep going, holy shit. Fuck you in that suit and mess it up so bad you won’t be able to put it on without thinking of me—” He whines breathlessly, words falling short, his eyes slamming shut. Erwin watches him, the erotic opening of his mouth as he comes, eyelashes fluttering, mascara dewing at the corner of his eyes with gathering tears. Erwin ruts just a couple more times, watching Levi ride the last of his orgasm before coming himself, a hot flood of pleasure through his veins.

He goes weak in the knees and rests on his elbows above Levi, nestled among tulle and organza poofs like birds. “Fuck, that was filthy.” Levi sighs, squirming a bit under Erwin to make himself more comfortable.

“In a good way or bad way?”

Levi hums, “both.”

* * *

Erwin can’t take his eyes off Levi during the after party, can’t help but notice the red marks crawling up his neck, or the way strands of his hair just won’t stay in place, falling across his eyes stylishly. Every so often Levi will catch him looking and mouth _later_ so much promise caught in a single word Erwin is practically buzzing beneath his skin.

“At least pretend you don’t wanna jump his bones in front of everyone.” Eren comments as he sidles up to Erwin. Beside him, Hanji snorts unattractively, hiding it with her champagne glass.

“Please.” she says, fixing Erwin with a wicked smile. “I, for one, am quite enjoying these across the room come hither looks.” Erwin rolls his eyes, sipping his own champagne.

“That’s cause the guy your boss wants to jump isn’t your step brother.” Eren retorts, hooking his arm with Hanji. They aren’t looking at each other, both of their eyes fixed on Erwin expectantly. Hanji’s eyes flash.

“He banged my twin brother once, does that count?” She says.

“No shit?”

“Can you two not?” Erwin sighs, draining his champagne and quickly reaching for another.

“He’s quite the player.” Hanji teases.

“Huh.” Eren hums. For a second his whole face darkens, and he growls low and murderous, “you hurt him, and they’ll never find the body.” He says, low and frankly, quite terrifying. Erwin finds he believes him. He and Hanji share a look, and they flounce off together, pleasant as always.

“Kid’s scary, huh?” Levi says as he comes up to him. Erwin nods slowly and watches Hanji and Eren charm their way through media and other designers, together they make quite the power duo, dressed to the nines with blades behind their eyes. “He doesn’t have to worry about you anyway.” Levi slides in close, and they are far enough away from everyone that no one notices or looks their way.

“Why’s that?” Erwin murmurs, leaning down to look into Levi’s slate grey eyes.

Levi smiles thinly, and kisses him sweetly on the cheek. “You do anything, and I’ll kill you myself.”

**Author's Note:**

> did you know i've been working on this for a literal year? first of all, reppin' T-dot; almost all places mentioned are real. second of all, that suit eren is wearing is an anicient ass armani he found at a garage sale, and third, i'm thinking of doing an erejean companion piece to this but lol.
> 
> The first fic mando knows nothing about, wow.
> 
> edit: sup, mando here for a quicktime edit bc my girl was sick and tired of looking at this thing she refused to tell me about for a literal year. i've just been sitting here on my ass wAITING FOR THIS (so worth tho so worth)
> 
> ANYWAY, ALL CLEANED UP! HAVE FUN KIDS <3
> 
> and jade, do the erejean companion piece. you know you want to.


End file.
